Letters to My Secret Love
by Kalyiel
Summary: In his fifth year, Dean Thomas begins to have certain... feelings for Luna Lovegood, from the very moment in which he's being introduced to her. This fic follows they way his feelings evolve. R&R!


**A/N: **I've wrote this some time ago, as a dare on a Harry Potter forum. It's some kind of diary of letters, which Dean Thomas addresses to Luna Lovegood (they never get into her hands, of course). The action takes place in OotP. All Dean/Luna over-exaggerated fluff. Enjoy! XD And dont forget to **REVIEW**! :P

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**Letters to My Secret Love**

My Dearest Luna,

From the first time Harry introduced you to me in the Great Hall I felt as if I had known you for ages, as if your silvery eyes had always been looking at me, as if the perfume of your blonde, silky hair had always been impregnated deep into my skin. When you gracefully raised your hand for me to shake it, all my senses went wild – to shake the hand of someone born to be a princess was trivial… so I took your hand in mine and pressed my lips against it with caution – I didn't want to stain your pale skin with my kiss. At that moment you smiled at me and I felt that Heaven was upon me. Harry, Ron and Ginny couldn't retain themselves from laughing and even Hermione tried to hide an ironical grin, but you didn't care, so neither did I. But then you left. Oh, fair angel, shall I ever be blessed with your presence again?

Your humble Dean

Luna,

That night, they laughed and joked on your account, calling you "Loony Lovegood". They are not aware, however, of the noble origin your name keeps within, for nothing is more pure and more valuable to one's soul than the ever-virgin moon. Lovers dare only dream of it, as I only dare to dream of you, my fairest. To me their laughter was of no importance – I watched the night aster and it seemed it played Hide and Seek with me: sometimes it hid behind the clouds, sometimes it lightened the darkness with its rays – and its rays were your eyes to me, and when it hid it felt like you were hiding from me behind the curtains of a world I can't fully understand. But then again, how to understand the thoughts of a being superior to me?

Dean Thomas

Dear Luna,

I heard you discussing with Justin Finch-Fletchley the other day about something called "the D.A.". I didn't and I don't know what it is, but seeing you with him, both of you acting like old friends and him with an arm around your waist, playfully, had the effect of a poisonous spear thrown by you towards my heart. You had a dreamy gaze, and didn't seem to mind that he was calling you, with no shame, "Loony". You even accepted to go to Hogsmeade with him the day after Christmas. I was a fool to even think you were made for me, a fool to paint you portraits after portraits, comparing you to the greatest of princesses. Your long, blonde hair, your eyes, your smile, your perfume are only illusions good enough to torture the soul of an artist.

Your heartbroken Dean

Luna,

You came to me and asked for a favor. Those lips of yours, innocent and pure, formed every word of your request to me. "Deanie" you said with a playful smile on your face, "I need you to help me". You clearly are a goddess of doom and desire, for you asked me something which I could regret in the near future. Yet I couldn't refuse you. You asked me to forge the signature of your father – "I know you have a certain… talent at doing that" you said in a sweet voice. "Otherwise I can't get permission from that Umbridge woman" – you wanted to go to Hogsmeade and you knew your father wouldn't agree… not then. You wanted to go to Hogsmeade with _him_, with Justin. And I said "yes". I said "yes" in spite of the inner voice that screamed, that yelled again and again "no!". I said "yes". I forged your father's signature and you were in the seventh Heaven. Enthusiastic like a little child, you wrapped your arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek. Your kiss burned painfully, and yet innocently – a sin, yet not a sin through its nature. If only it were me the one to ask you out, Luna…

Your tortured Deanie

Dearest Luna,

It was you, it was really you there, in that dark hallway, on that cold night. Outside was snowing and raining at the same time and you ran through the wooden gate like crazy. You were soaked – your festive robes of a soft blue were glued to your small body and dozens of snowflakes were hanging by your wet hair. Your silvery eyes were now of a dark gray – tears filled them with no mercy. You leant against a cold stone wall and slowly let yourself slip to the ground. You covered your pale face with your hands, letting out silent sobs. I thought Justin will be running after you and I expected to see him appear through the gates, but he didn't. So I approached you… I approached you slowly, cautiously, as slowly and as cautiously as you approach something you want to have, but that you're still afraid of. My footsteps echoed through the lonely hallway, but you didn't react. I sat next to you and watched you for a second: to me you looked like a Phoenix in the last moments of its life – a Phoenix who had lost all its feathers only to gain more shiny ones at its upcoming rebirth. I took your freezing hands in mine – you were wearing no gloves. They were wet, carrying your tears, as your eyes still did. I didn't ask you what happened and you didn't give any explanations. I didn't need to ask and you didn't need to answer. I knew. We didn't sleep that night. I stayed with you – no kisses, no caresses, no embraces. I knew you wouldn't have kept resistance at any of my attempts to do such things, but you were – and are – too precious to me to take advantage of you.

Dean

Dearest,

You said "goodbye" and I thought the sky would fall upon me. You said you had to go somewhere important to help someone. You wouldn't answer any of my questions. You hushed me with a tiny finger and an encouraging smile. I had the feeling it might be the last time I saw you, but you read my mind and silenced my thoughts. You gave me your necklace – sweet and silly necklace! – of Butterbeer caps and told me to keep it. Then, you ran away, holding your wand with determination. I'm wearing your necklace under my robes – don't let it be the last I'll ever see of you!

Dean

My Dear Luna,

A woman with pink hair and a man whom I recognized to be our former D.A.D.A. professor, Remus Lupin, took you back to Hogwarts. Professor Lupin was carrying you in his arms and he made his way to the infirmary. The pink-haired woman told me you had fainted when I asked what had happened to you. No other explanations were given to me, but I could guess from her tired and full of pain gaze that she was hiding something. I waited in front of the infirmary for what seemed hours until Madam Pomfrey finally gave me permission to see you. I walked in and there you were, pale as the covers of the bed you were standing on. I knew other people where there from the beds with their dark curtains pulled in such a way as not to reveal the patients. I didn't care – you were the only one that mattered. Your eyes lightened with happiness at seeing me and you told me to come closer. I obeyed what was the most pleasant of orders and I sat on the edge of your bed. You wrapped your arms around my neck and you felt the necklace you had given to me. Your smile widened with pleasure and you came even closer to me. I could smell the perfume of your hair once again, so, not bothering to be shy anymore, I hid my face in your blonde tresses. I don't remember how much we stood like that, embraced, me hiding my face in your hair, you resting your head on my own. To me that was the day after forever.

Forever yours,

Dean Thomas


End file.
